Nuttin' for Christmas
by BrilliantDarkness
Summary: Christmas is near and Cody's young son is afraid his misdeeds will keep Santa Claus away.


He was playing with his marbles on the floor of his room—well less playing than taking stock—when he heard the shriek. He knew that shriek and was pretty sure what was to follow. It surely wouldn't be one of his sister's names called out and sure enough. There it came, the one thing that made his blood run cold.

"Noah Isaac Cody! You get down here this instant!"

Now anyone else in the world who ever met his mother would never have guessed in a million years that she could holler like that. In fact in every other interaction with every other member of the human race she kept an almost demure demeanor. But Noah alone knew how far her voice could carry and the rage that could rise within it. In his seven years he had heard his full name called so many times he thought that's how he was always supposed to be addressed. When he had started school the teacher asked his name and thought he was being a smart aleck of some sort when he told her "Noah Isaac Cody."

It had taken him a while to learn to respond to just his first name. The worst thing might have been that his full name still was hollered out so often he was pretty sure everyone in the county and perhaps even those surrounding knew his middle name.

Reluctantly Noah stood and headed down the stairs. The worst thing was he didn't even remember doing anything wrong that day. He was so certain he'd been good, at least he had tried to be. But then when he heard that hollering he knew at least half of the time it was over something he either had forgotten he'd done or hadn't even realized he'd done. Slowly he trudged toward the voice.

"There you are!" his mother yelled when she caught sight of him trudging down the stairs. "Would you care to explain this?"

She held up the pieces to the vase he had broken the week before, the pieces he had hidden in the drawer of an end table until he could find a clear opening to discard them, the pieces he had forgotten about until they were brought to his attention.

"I'm sorry Mama," he said, looking at his feet, "It was an accident."

"I suppose shoving little Gracie Mullins in the mud on your way home from school today was just an accident as well."

He did not answer. Gracie had been teasing him, "Noah Isaac Cody, with all the trouble you get in you aren't getting anything from Santa Claus but a big old lump of coal!"

She always used his full name when she mocked him.

"Answer me, young man!"

"How did you know about that?" he asked though he had a pretty good idea.

"Little Gracie came to tell me though it's a wonder she doesn't catch her death from pneumonia walking home soaked to the bone and filthy."

Of course the little brat came to tattle on him. The vase was his own sloppiness but Gracie was a thorn in his side. He could get away with nothing. He was always in trouble because of her. Maybe he could admit that he did the things she tattled about, she never made anything up but still the reason he got in trouble was her tattling.

"You just march right back up those stairs young man," his mother said sternly, "Your father is coming home this evening so that he can spend Christmas with us. I'd hoped for a nice family dinner but you won't be joining us. You can just go straight to bed."

"Fine!" he said angrily, "I didn't want to sit at some stuffy old dinner anyway. I'm not even hungry!"

The last was a lie, he was starved but he wouldn't admit it.

"You Uncle Jimmy's coming too," she reminded him, "You might want to think a little about your attitude before tomorrow if you want to spend any part of your holiday out of your room."

He forgot Uncle Jimmy was coming. He had been all set to stomp his anger all the way up the stairs but instead he felt the tears prick at his eyes. The very next day was Christmas Eve. It wasn't bad enough that Santa would be stopping at his house for the girls only; he was going to miss out on all of the fun. He slowly walked up the stairs but paused halfway up and turned slightly toward his mother.

"I really am sorry about your vase, Mama," he said sadly.

Louisa leaned against the back of a chair next to her. That boy was going to be her ultimate ruin. She never yelled like that before in her life. She'd always been a quiet and patient girl but something about that child worked her last nerve. She blamed Willie, surely no one in her family was ever like this but she suspected that he'd given his own mother a run for her money when he was little. Maybe she'd have him talk to their son. Perhaps the child was just reacting to having his father gone so very much. Perhaps in the summer Noah could spend some time travelling with the show. At least then he'd be out of her hair. Louisa blinked a few times to hold back the tears. She loved that boy more than her own life but she sometimes wanted to choke his life right from him. Surely that made her a terrible mother, monstrous even.

With a sigh she pushed herself away from the chair to see to dinner preparations. She wanted to make sure everything was just so when Willie returned home. He hadn't been back in months and while they weren't always the most harmonious of couples, she did miss him when he was away. Besides he was bringing a guest. She at first had balked when he wanted to bring a man of such notoriety to their home with their children but she soon relented learning that James Hickok was as far from Wild Bill Hickok as she herself was from the Queen of England. He was usually soft spoken when he came to visit and he was never called Bill within the walls of their home. He was simply Jimmy and it was easy to have her husband's "brother" Jimmy visit for the holiday. She never even considered his reputation anymore and she doubted few did except for those who wanted to break the law wherever he might be enforcing it or those who saw a way to make a buck off of it.

As much of a promoter as her husband was and even he would speak with near venom of those who wrote books filled with lies about his friend. He encouraged the writers of those silly books to write about Buffalo Bill but he knew that Jimmy was not the same and would have loved to rid himself of the moniker given to him so long ago. It was that side of Willie, the one who cared about his family, the one who saw that not everyone was like him, the one who could be tender and sweet that she had fallen in love with. That was the Willie she wished others could see. But the rest of the world was enamored only with the showman.

Noah sat in his room sulking as the darkness overtook his chamber. He had cleaned up his marbles when he got upstairs and then crawled into bed and just sat there on the corner of the mattress hugging a stuffed dog that had been made for him by an old friend of his father named Emma. It was sewn of scraps of fabric and some of them were very soft. He wouldn't admit to still sleeping with the baby toy but in truth he loved to close his eyes and feel the softer fabric and let it make him feel safe and loved. As he fingered the cloth he would remember the stories that his father had told of this woman and how she fit into the lives of his father and the men he knew as uncles. Currently he was thinking of a couple of stories that his father had told him of her when they had barely even met her. One was of one of the young men who rode with the Express who was now dead. His name had been Ike and had been a very gentle sort. He was bald from childhood sickness and could not speak. Most cast him out and never even gave him a chance. Well one day Ike was out working with the horses and one of them kicked him. Emma had taken control of all of them and just sat down with Ike. She bandaged his head and held him close and rocked him. They were all orphans and hadn't known anything but cruelty for so long they were all struck by the simple yet loving gesture. Noah's father had told him it was the moment they knew they had a home. For her to hold close this young man who had known only rejection for so long he had forgotten what it was to be loved, they knew they were family. The other story that Noah always remembered was about his Uncle Jimmy. Seems Uncle Jimmy offended some hired gun and had to face him. Emma knew that it would come out bad for Uncle Jimmy even if he won the duel so she tried everything including giving away something that meant a great deal to her to save him because she knew he was more than his misdeeds. Noah wondered if anyone would ever see more than his own mistakes. Sometimes he even wondered if he was more than the things he did wrong.

As the shadows grew longer and the room darker, Noah heard the commotion downstairs signaling that his father was home. He wished he could be down there welcoming him home with his stupid perfect sisters. He could hear voices. His sisters squealed in delight at having father home and most likely at the gifts that he brought with him. Even though it was only a couple days until Christmas, he would bring them souvenirs of his travels along with wrapped gifts for under the tree. Noah would get nothing Mama would see to that. Mixed with the voices from downstairs he heard Uncle Jimmy's low voice and his tears renewed. Uncle Jimmy was the best. He had lived such adventures and he was always so kind and gentle with Noah. More gentle than he was with anyone else and that was saying something because Noah had never seen him rough with anyone. He knew he could be and that he had been but Noah had never witnessed such a thing. Hours passed and Noah even dozed some in between cursing Gracie and his own stupidity at not moving the broken vase.

Gracie was the worst person he could think of. Everything wrong in his life was always traceable to her tattling and her snotty personality. She thought she was so great, better than everyone else. She deserved to get a face full of mud and if she caught a cold then she deserved that too. He did reflect that he hoped she didn't get seriously sick or truly catch her death as Mama had said she might. He hated her but he still didn't want her dead. He wasn't that mean. Gracie haunted the little sleep he got while the others were enjoying dinner. Her freckled face framed with her stupid ugly curls bouncing all around. "Santa only comes to good girls and boys."

He told her he was good mostly and she just laughed. "Santa doesn't like liars, Noah Isaac Cody. Santa knows if you lie. You won't get anything for Christmas."

He woke again crying softly. He thought maybe he should run away from home. No one would notice if he left, except Mama who might notice that she had to yell less. She'd be thankful. His sisters wouldn't care at all. They hated him. He was pretty sure Mama did too. She'd be happier without him. He really should go. He decided then to do it. Once everyone was asleep and the house quiet, he would pack a few things and be off. They would all be better. His father had found another family and so would Noah.

He thought his decision would make him feel better but it only made him feel worse. He didn't really want a new family. He wanted this one. He even wanted his sisters. He just wanted them to love him and not be angry with him all the time.

He was in a full pout when he heard a knock come on the door and then the knob began to turn. Noah froze searching his mind for anything else he had done wrong. Surely it was his mother or father coming to yell at him some more. He strained his eyes as the door opened. A head peered around the door and in the scant light from the hallway Noah could just make out the long hair falling around broad shoulders and the long mustache of his Uncle Jimmy.

"Uncle Jimmy?" Noah said incredulously, "Does Mama know you're up here?"

Jimmy's laugh was deep but soft.

"I told her I wanted to come up and say hi if you were still awake," he said, "I guess you are. Mind some company?"

"I didn't think I was allowed company," Noah said, "I thought I was in solidarity confinement."

"You mean solitary confinement?" Jimmy laughed, "Well, Louisa didn't say anything against me coming up or me bringing you some chow."

"I get to eat?"

"I guess I sort of convinced her that starving a growing boy wouldn't teach you any kind of lesson at all."

Jimmy got a lamp lit and set the plate down on the nightstand.

"Sounds like you've had a tough time lately," Jimmy said. He had heard of the trouble the boy was in that day and the trouble he'd been in since the last time Cody had been home.

"Everything I do is wrong, Uncle Jimmy," he said and he tried not to cry, he really did but just couldn't make his eyes obey. They last person he wanted to cry in front of was the one before him now. "I try to be good. I really do but I just can't ever seem to. Mama never yells except at me and she never looks happy anymore, least not with me."

"Oh I've been there," Jimmy said, "Women never do understand boys or men completely. Of course we don't understand them either. But it makes it hard when you're the only boy in a group of women."

"They all hate me."

Jimmy's laughed rolled through the room.

"I ain't laughing at you, Noah," he explained, "I remember thinking the same thing. It wasn't the only reason I ran off but it played a big part in it. Come to find out, me leaving hurt them bad enough I almost couldn't come home again."

"But you found a family that loved you," Noah protested wanting to somehow hold to his plans for the night.

"After I got caught up with people who used me and hurt me and pretended to care but didn't really," Jimmy answered, "I was lucky to live long enough to get to meet that family I found."

Noah ate in silence for a while before Jimmy spoke again.

"So breaking the vase I get," Jimmy said, "Accidents happen but pushing a girl? That's not like you Noah."

"She was laughing at me and being so mean," Noah said and proceeded to tell Jimmy the whole tale of how Gracie ended up in the mud. Jimmy had to fight not to laugh in a couple of places.

"So you think Santa isn't coming?"

"Not for me he isn't," Noah sulked, "Gracie's right. She's rotten and awful but she's right. Santa will come for the girls but he's not bringing anything to me. I've done too many bad things."

"Now see you're not hearing it quite right," Jimmy said, "Santa doesn't bring toys to bad girls and boys but doing something wrong don't make you bad, not most of the time anyway."

"I didn't just do something wrong," the boy said seriously, "I do everything wrong."

"Well, I have a couple ideas. Let me talk to your folks a bit. You get some sleep, okay?"

"Sure Uncle Jimmy."

Jimmy got up to leave but the boy's small voice pulled him back.

"Uncle Jimmy, can you tell me a story?"

"I don't know why you're asking me," he said, "Your pa's a much better storyteller than I am."

Right about then another knock came on the door and Cody stepped into the room.

"He's still awake, then?" he asked his old friend.

"Yeah," Jimmy said, "You're just in time. He wants a story."

"Pa!" Noah said in a hushed cry, "I'm really sorry pa. You know I am, right?"

Cody walked across the room and sat next to the boy wrapping him in his arms. He loved the travel and sometimes it was really good to get some space from Lulu but it just got harder and harder to be away from the children.

"'Course I know you're sorry," he told his son, "Just sometimes you need to know that being sorry ain't always enough. Sometimes you got to find a way to make things right."

"How can I do that?"

"You'll have to put some real thought into that," Cody said, "Maybe your Uncle Jimmy and I can think a little too."

He pulled back from the boy tousling the kid's hair.

"So you want a story?"

"Can Uncle Jimmy tell it?"

"Depends on what story you want, I expect," Cody told the child.

"Can I hear how Uncle Jimmy became Wild Bill?"

"It was your pa's fault," Jimmy said, "End of story."

"It was not," Cody shot back, "I was minding my own business and you had a problem with that."

"Doesn't change that you started the whole thing."

"Yeah it does because I didn't start the whole thing. You did," Cody said simply, "You want to explain to both of us the way you acted because I've never been able to figure it out."

Jimmy looked down at his hands in his lap and then back up and father and son waiting for him to begin the tale.

"We was all in town that day," he started, "It was when the station was still in Sweetwater, you see and us guys, well and Lou too, were watching Sam and some other guys playing poker. All us guys except your pa who was off reading a book."

Jimmy looked to Cody who nodded that so far the story was accurate to his memory as well. Cody knew the real reason Jimmy didn't want to tell the story and it had nothing to do with not being as good a storyteller as his friend. True Jimmy didn't have the natural flair for the dramatic of his friend but this story upset him in a lot of different ways and for a lot of different reasons, only a few of which Cody truly understood.

"I'd like to say it wouldn't have bothered me if he'd at least been reading a good book but back then I didn't know a good book from the trash he was reading. I couldn't read at all and that was probably what set me off," Jimmy admitted and it was the first time Cody had that suspicion confirmed. He'd been horridly confused by his friend's behavior at the time but once it came out to all of them that Jimmy couldn't read he started to get an idea that's what might have sparked a good deal of this incident.

"Not everyone gets the chance to go to school, Noah," Cody clarified to the boy, "You're lucky to be able to read."

"You can read now, Uncle Jimmy, can't you?"

Jimmy nodded to the boy, "It wasn't too long after this I learned. I just needed someone to take a little time to teach me."

"We all were real proud of how fast he picked it up," Cody added and it was the truth. In just a few short months Jimmy'd gone from not knowing a single word on sight to reading some pretty impressive books that Noah loaned him. It really had been just a matter of having people to teach and then having those people encourage rather than judge.

"Cody I never knew you cared," Jimmy said half joking.

"I told you once I loved you, Hickok," Cody answered, "Don't you remember?"

"You always were a pain in the neck, you know that?"

"It's one of my finest features," Cody said, "Now get back to the story before Noah here falls asleep without hearing the good parts."

Jimmy sighed, "Well, I got into it with your pa a little about how he was missing all the fun and took his book from him and was really a first class heel."

"Nice of you to admit that, Jimmy," Cody said placing a hand over his heart, "I'm really touched."

"Yeah you're touched alright, Cody," Jimmy said rolling his eyes, "Shut up if you want me to tell him."

Cody held up his hands in surrender and Jimmy continued.

"So I was being a bit of an a-well you know," Jimmy continued, "And somewhere in there I had thrown the book into a mop bucket. Anyway this man came up to give your pa his book back and of course it was ruined. So the man gave him a new copy and it turned out this man was the one that wrote the book. He made some comment about how he really knew all the people he wrote about and he made them famous and I shot my mouth off saying that if they was any good at all they wouldn't need him writing about them. I still thought I was hot stuff myself then too. So this J.D. Marcus said something about how some men are real heroes and some are little kids who'd wet themselves if they faced real danger. I got his meaning and he was saying I was a coward."

"I probably should've stepped in right about then but I didn't," Cody said, "Of course none of the others did either and we all should've seen this coming."

"Probably but I was old enough then I should've known how to control my temper better," Jimmy said.

"You controlled it pretty good. You didn't kill him."

"What happened?" Noah asked now very far from sleep or even his tears of earlier.

"Marcus tried shoving the book in front of your Uncle Jimmy and tried to make him read which we didn't know he couldn't then and he kind of made to hit Jimmy with his walking stick."

"Did you shoot him, Uncle Jimmy?"

"No but I drew," Jimmy told the boy, "That was dumb enough. I shot the cane and his hat. Some decent shots if I recall."

"I don't think I've seen better," Cody agreed.

"I thought it was over after that even though the man said it wasn't," Jimmy said, "It didn't occur to me there was any other way to go than to call me out and he wasn't the type to do that."

"What did the man do?" Noah asked.

"It wasn't until I was out on a ride a little while later that I found out. I met up with some young guy who wanted to challenge me. Kept calling me Wild Bill and waving a book with a drawing of me on the cover. That book said I did all sorts of things and none of them was true."

"Funny," Cody said, "All the things you'd really done at that time and he made stuff up."

"Like what?" asked Noah.

"Said I killed another man, someone else who lived by the gun," Jimmy told the child, "'Cept the man wasn't dead and he sort of took offense."

"You know," Cody said, "Now that I think, that shooting Marcus' hat and stick wasn't nothing compared to when you faced off with Gabe Calder."

"Really Cody," Jimmy said, "You want your boy to hear about that?"

"You could've killed him, Jimmy," Cody answered, "You didn't. It's not like you could avoid the fight."

"Yeah I could've," Jimmy said feeling like he wanted to storm out, "I could've kept my big mouth shut that day in the saloon."

"You made a mistake," Cody said lifting his eyebrows and tipping his head slightly toward his son. "We all did a lot of stupid stuff when we were young."

"Did this Calder guy call you out?" asked Noah.

"He did and there was no avoiding him," Jimmy said, "I had plenty of people I couldn't avoid in those days. Of course if I'd been less loudmouthed and less eager to grab the gun I wouldn't've had that problem."

The men looked at each other remembering Longley. It was a story Cody had told the boy many times but he knew it was not one to bring up right then. Jimmy had his moods and when he got one, he would get very solemn about his mistakes and that wouldn't make for a very festive Christmas as his friend would either be drunk or hung-over the whole time.

"But you didn't kill him?"

"No, Noah," Jimmy said, "I didn't kill him. I shot both of his hands so he couldn't kill me. He'd already shot Sam in the arm and Sam was just trying to save me from myself."

"And that was how it all happened?"

A look passed between the men remembering what happened after Calder had been taken away and the young man who'd read the book came out and drew down on Jimmy. It was reflex and it was justifiable as self defense as well but Jimmy had never fully recovered from killing the young man who'd been even younger than they all had been at the time.

"Yeah Noah," Jimmy said trying to conjure a smile, "That's how it all happened."

They said goodnight to the boy and left the room quietly.

"Sorry I didn't suggest a different story," Cody said, "I forgot how it ended. I wouldn't have told him that part."

"That's okay," Jimmy said, "Eventually I guess I have to get over it."

"You think he really thinks Santa's going to skip him?"

"Yeah I do," Jimmy said, "Don't you remember being that age?"

"I remember I was a holy terror," Cody told him, "My mother was a sweet gentle lady but you'd never have known it to hear her bawl me out."

"Probably how he feels when Louisa gets to hollering at him," Jimmy said.

"I guess tomorrow we can help him figure out how to get back on Santa's list of good boys and girls, huh?"

"Sounds good, Cody."

The next morning little Noah was at the breakfast table looking sadder than anyone had ever seen him. Jimmy and Cody exchanged worried looks. They understood what it was to be a small boy and feel that nothing you ever did was right. Once breakfast was over Noah followed his mother to the parlor and watched as she sat down to do her needlework.

"Mama," he said softly.

Louisa looked up and her heart softened at the timid look on his face. She'd never actually seen the child look anything close to timid before.

"What is it Noah?"

"Mama, I'm real sorry about the vase," he said and the tears began to form in his blue eyes, those eyes that were the same color as his father's, those eyes that melted her the same way Willie's did. She truly could never stay angry with either of them.

"I know you are my sweet boy," she said sitting her needlework down and motioning him closer, "I know you are."

Noah cautiously approached his mother and when he was close enough she pulled him into her embrace. It was the same way she held him when he scraped his knee and she wanted to comfort him. It felt good.

"I don't mean to make you cross with me."

"I know that too," she said kissing his forehead. "Thank you for apologizing to me, Noah."

She released him and felt a stab at her heart once more to see those forlorn eyes. She knew at least part of the reason for his apology was a last ditch effort to get Santa there for him but she could see that he really was sorry and she knew him to be a very tender hearted child.

"Noah," she called to him before he was out of the room. He paused and looked at her with those sad eyes. "I love you."

He nodded and left the room wondering how she could love someone who angered her so. He scuffed his feet along the floor to his father's office where he knew his father would be with Uncle Jimmy.

"I have to say, Cody," Jimmy said on spying the child, "I don't think I've seen a longer face on any living creature in all my days."

"It's a pretty sad face," Cody agreed, "Come here, son."

Noah drug his feet to where his father sat behind his desk and allowed himself to be pulled onto the man's lap.

"Did you do your thinking like I told you?"

Noah nodded.

"What did you come up with?"

"It doesn't matter," the boy said, "It's too late. Santa's coming tonight. I can't make everything right that I've done bad all year. Besides, he won't know if I did."

"Now that last part I know is wrong," Jimmy said, "Didn't you know that Santa's magic? I don't know how he knows the things he knows being as I'm not magic myself but he'll know."

"And we don't need to fix everything," Cody said, "Just a few things to show Santa you're trying to do better. Now what was the most recent thing you did that you shouldn't have?"

"I pushed Gracie in the mud yesterday."

"Is there something you can do to make that better?"

A smile slowly formed from Noah's frown and he nodded.

"I need to do something first," the boy said leaping from his father's lap and running out of the room.

A short while later Noah reappeared in the office. He walked over to Jimmy and tugged on the man's sleeve.

"Uncle Jimmy," he said quietly, "Could you come with me?"

Jimmy had been thinking of taking a walk to stretch his legs and get a bit of fresh air anyway so he nodded to the child and went with him. He followed Noah the few blocks over to a small shop and then followed him inside. The boy selected a few items and then pulled a small tin from his coat pocket. From the tin the boy pulled out the needed money for his purchases.

"I was saving for a rifle like Pa's," he explained, "I guess I'll just have to start saving all over again."

There was no sadness at that fact, just an acknowledgement of the situation. Noah paused outside the store and handed two of the three parcels to Jimmy to carry and was on his way. The third parcel was smaller but he kept it with him as he walked. Eventually the pair arrived at a house and Noah stopped.

"Gracie lives here," he said, "You don't have to come to the door with me if you don't want to."

Noah made his way to the front door of the house and knocked. When the door opened, Gracie's mother looked at him in question.

"May I please see Gracie?" Noah asked, "I need to tell her something."

The woman looked down her nose at the troublemaking boy but nodded. Soon Gracie was standing before him looking angry. He knew he deserved it a little.

"What do you want Noah Isaac Cody?"

"I wanted to make sure you were alright," he said, "Mama said you could catch your death of pneumonia walking in this cold all wet. I was mad but I didn't want you to get sick. I'm sorry Gracie. I really am."

Gracie didn't want to admit that his words, clumsy as they were, were also sort of sweet.

"I accept your apology, Noah," she said making sure he would notice that she didn't use his whole name. "Was that all?"

"No," he told her, "I also wanted to tell you Merry Christmas."

He held out a piece of paper and the small package from the store. The paper was merely a picture he had made her. He drew her as a Christmas angel with her curls all around her face. It wasn't a great work of art but it wasn't bad for a boy of only seven. Gracie could not help but smile at the picture. She then opened the package to find a number of ribbons there.

"I know you like to tie your hair in ribbons and I know I probably ruined the one you wore yesterday," he explained, "I couldn't remember what color it was though."

"Thank you, Noah," she said with a smile, "I'm sorry I was mean to you yesterday too. You're not so bad at all."

Noah looked about a thousand pounds lighter when he headed back toward Jimmy.

"That looked like it went well," Jimmy said, "We have more stops to make?"

"Nope," Noah told him, "Those are for my sisters. I'm pretty rotten to them; at least I make them mad a whole awful lot."

That night Noah tried to be hopeful but still he was sure he'd wake the next day to find that either he hadn't done near enough or that Santa wasn't as magical as Uncle Jimmy said he was. His father and uncle tucked him in and he tried to go to sleep but had a hard time of it. In fact, he was still awake when the door to his room opened. He knew it had to be one of his parents so he quickly closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. He surely didn't need to get into more trouble, not on Christmas Eve. He felt the mattress shift as someone sat on the edge of the bed. A tender hand brushed the hair from his forehead and he thought he heard a sniff as if someone was trying not to cry. He knew it was his mother and in his heart he knew that all he had done that day had been for nothing because he had made his mother cry and nothing could make a boy naughtier than making his mother cry.

"My sweet boy," she said softly, "I know you've had a tough time and I know you probably think I can't do anything but yell at you. I don't know why I lose my patience so much with you. You are my pride my precious boy and I don't think you get to hear that nearly enough. You are your father all over again. No one else has ever had such power to fill and yet break my heart. I love you dearly my boy. I'll try to show it more. You should know how precious you are to me."

Noah felt her lips press to his temple and smiled. His mother tiptoed from the room and suddenly Noah didn't care if Santa brought him a single thing. His mother's words were truly all he needed.

Morning came and Noah heard his sisters excited run toward the parlor where there would be presents galore for them. Noah got up and pulled a robe on over his night clothes and headed downstairs as well. He wasn't sad but he knew there would be nothing for him. Well, possibly his father or uncle had gotten him something but there would be no toy from Santa. He closed his eyes at the bottom of the stairs and recalled his mother's words. He was still her sweet boy and she loved him. He smiled and prepared to see what Santa Claus had brought for his sisters. Walking into the parlor he could see they had already set aside the gifts from Santa to see what their brother had gotten them. He had bought them each a new doll, not fancy or special dolls but he thought they were sort of nice and the girls seemed to agree. They hugged him and for once he was content to let them hug on him a bit and make over him and how generous he had been.

"Noah," his mother called sweetly in that tone he usually felt she reserved for the girls. "There's an envelope here on the tree for you."

Noah walked over and took the offered note. His name was on the front. He opened and began to read.

"Young Mr. Cody," the letter began, "It was brought to my attention that you, young man, had a bit of a crisis of late. It seems you were under the impression that I would pass you by. I will admit that on more than one occasion a case was made for placing your name on my list of naughty children. There's something within you though Noah, something good. I had to keep you on the list of nice children even if it is only because of how much happiness you bring your parents by simply existing. A child who can bring that much joy and inspire that much love cannot be naughty. Look behind the tree, Noah. Sincerely, Santa Claus."

Noah looked up and then wandered around to look between the tree and the wall to see a perfectly carved train engine. His face lit up as he picked up the new toy.

"He came," Noah said to no one in particular, "He came."

"Had a feeling he would," Jimmy said.

"Santa told me something else," Cody piped up, "He told me how you paid for the gifts you gave and said you might be needing this."

He held up his old rifle.

"It's not the shiny, new modern one that you wanted but it saved my backside and your uncle's here more than once."

Noah was intoxicated by the vision before him, his own rifle.

"Will you teach me to use it, Pa?"

"I expect I'll have plenty of time to do that before I have to leave again," Cody answered, "But you have to promise you'll follow the rules I teach you and mind your mama good."

"I do promise."

Noah tried his hardest to be good but still often found himself on the receiving end of his mother's hollering. It never bothered him as much after that though. He knew he was as precious to his mother as she was to him. Years later he read over the words Santa had written him and was unsurprised to find the handwriting bore a striking resemblance to his father's writing. By then he knew who and what Santa was. As a grown man the memory of that Christmas was still very dear to him. There weren't many more Christmases to be spent with his Uncle Jimmy. He eventually married and had children of his own. His wife often rolled her eyes that he would not part with the little trinkets his uncle had given him through the years or with the little wooden train engine.

"Honestly Noah," his dear Gracie would say with her hands firmly on her hips, "I don't know why a grown man needs to keep such childish toys around."

He tried once or twice to explain but was never able to fully express the meaning of those items. Also tucked away in a closet and only rarely looked upon was the old Hawken rifle. He had never been able to confirm this but he was certain that when his father said Santa had told him what the money he used for presents was being saved for, he meant that Uncle Jimmy had told him. To his dying day Noah Isaac Cody kept with him what he learned that Christmas back when he'd been a young lad of seven. He was indeed a nice kid even if he made mistakes and that his family, even his annoying sisters, was the best gift he could ever receive.

* * *

><p><strong>There was no Noah Isaac Cody. The only son born to Louisa and Bill Cody was Kit Carson Cody who died at the age of six. So I made up little Noah. Louisa did indeed call him Willie one of only two people to do so, the other being his mother. He called her Lulu. They had a strained marriage but I believe there were times that the were happy...I like to think some good came before he sued her for divorce claiming she had poisoned him...heehee...<strong>

**Anyway, if there was one person who had no problem with bending the facts (even those of his own life) to make a tale better it was William F. "Buffalo Bill" Cody. Never let the facts get in the way of a good story...-J**


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